


Feeling So Gifted

by percussion



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2012-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:22:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/percussion/pseuds/percussion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Louis need each other, basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeling So Gifted

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a prompt that referred to Liam as the calm and Louis as the storm. The title is from Suga Suga by Baby Bash, which is a song that I have come to associate with these two boys, thanks to a LiLo author on Livejournal. (Just the chorus, though. The verses get weird.)
> 
> Anyway, here's a sort of character study, I suppose, because they are the cutest friends.

Sometimes Louis and Liam just look at each other and think _god damn_.

But not the kind of _god damn_ where you scan the girl up and down, letting your eyes linger on her tits and ass. Where you whistle and nudge your friend and grunt a little as a joke. They’re the taken boys anyway, so that’s supposed to be off the table.

No, this is admiration. Awe, sometimes. Incredulity, often, because how can two people fill each other’s cracks quite so easily?

There’s Louis, who’s loud and wild, quick to anger and quick to love, if Harry’s any indication, but Harry probably shouldn’t be used as an example of anything normal. Louis can voice twelve different opinions before you’ve ever processed the first and it makes Liam’s head spin. Louis is two years older than the rest of them, but you’d never be able to tell, because fuck it, age is just a number, and he doesn’t believe in getting old anyway. Louis can grow facial hair when he wants and talk about boobs with a straight face on live television and build arm muscle like nobody’s business and Liam is dying to be that cool.

And there’s Liam, with a voice like an angel, with so much good in his heart that it bubbles over all the time. Liam, who’s eighteen and still so much a child, but this kid can beatbox and dance and is damn good in bed, from what Louis hears. Liam doesn’t drink, doesn’t cheat, doesn’t blow fuses like the rest of them sometimes do. He can dodge any interview question without even trying. His girlfriend is twenty-three and a gorgeous dancer and he still calls his parents Mum and Daddy. Louis can’t even imagine being that kind of person at eighteen and it scares him how behind he is.

There’s the one day in LA when Liam opens the hotel room door to see Harry and Louis standing shirtless and face to face, and Harry’s screaming _it’s not fair it’s not fair_ and Louis is backed against a wall like touching another human right now would be one step too far. Liam knows the deal, knows about Eleanor and management and how much everyone must hurt. He stands there next to them both, talking softly and quickly about stupid things, the sunshine and basketball and how he’s running out of clean underwear and does anyone want to go swimming?

Harry says yes. The two of them start to gather towels, swimming trunks, and Louis sits on the bed and watches and feels so grateful that Liam can do what he does. 

There’s the one day in New York when there’s only four of them at breakfast, and when Louis goes upstairs he finds Liam huddled in his scratchy hotel covers, sobbing that he’s fine, he’s just tired, he’ll be down in a minute. Louis runs back down to the lobby and pleads with Paul to do something, anything. In three hours a doctor’s been brought in and they’ve all received B12 shots, promised to make them feel better, more energy. Liam smiles a little at lunch, red eyes, eating ice cream with a fork, and Louis feels something in his stomach unclench. 

They go on adventures together, surfing and jumping off buildings and it’s so nice to feel that way, to feel the right kind of full. They cuddle sometimes, murmuring little things about missing home, and then they play-wrestle until Niall comes in to tell them there’s food, so they shove away from each other, ruffling hair and adjusting each other’s clothes and grinning so hard and _god damn_.


End file.
